


From This Gilded Stall

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Series: I Suffer(ed) From The Birdcage Syndrome [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Touch Chancellor, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced oral sex, M/M, MT!Prompto, Objectification, POV Second Person, Pre-Pieces, cyborg AU, servitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: 01987 and Chancellor Izunia visit Tenebrae. There, the blonde MT finds some bewildering yet kindred spirits.





	From This Gilded Stall

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Caged Bird", by Circe Link.
> 
> Edited and beta'd by invisibledeity, whatta champ. :D

A scent, thick and sweet, wafts into the dropship as soon as it opens. The Chancellor walks up beside where you stand waiting for him, and takes a deep breath.

"Tenebrae," he says, picking a thread off one of his ruffled sleeves. "One of the Empire's most prized possessions."

He looks towards you with a grin, and holds out the crook of his arm.

"Shall we?"

Ever since the night in the small white room, physical contact with the Chancellor feels odd. It doesn't make you feel as safe as it used to. Still, you don't have much of a choice. The outside world is unfamiliar and more than a little overwhelming; you'd rather not get lost in it.

You slide your arm through his, and emerge out of the ship, onto a slice of pavement surrounded by a sea of blue. The sweet smell is even stronger out here, and you put a hand to your nose to cover it.

The Chancellor notices this, and gives you a knowing smirk.

"Tenebrae is known for its botanical curiosities," he says, sweeping his arm towards the encroaching blue on his left. "For example, sylleblossoms. They can grow nowhere else on Eos; horticulturalists have been trying for centuries. Some believe it's due to the magic of the Oracle."

Needless to say, you don't know what that is. You don't want to ask either; you're uncomfortable enough.

When you tear your eyes from all the plants, you look upwards to see a massive building. It's not quite as big as, say, Zegnautus Keep, but it's a thing to be reckoned with nonetheless. Light from the sky bounces off its domed roofs and not-quite-white walls, making it glisten like a jewel in the middle of the lush mountain range surrounding it.

As you walk closer and closer towards it on your small path, the unsteadiness you feel with the Chancellor melts away until you feel a burning between your lungs, a strange desire to treat this place with more respect than you've ever given your superiors. Your hand drops from your face, the cloying smell of the sylleblossoms momentarily forgotten as you become lost in awe.

A short time later, after the pavement has turned into stone and greenery, you find yourself at the edge of a cliff. Unfamiliar humans stand, dressed all in white, grimacing a bit as they see you and the Chancellor near.

"Chancellor Izunia," one says, clearly forcing his upset expression into one of neutrality, "we've been expecting your presence. We'll have a shuttle for you in just a moment."

The Chancellor tips his hat. He does this a lot, to other humans.

"Thank you."

The human in white walks to the very edge of the cliff and pulls something small and black out of a pocket in his robes. Within minutes, he's guiding the pair of you into a dropship, different from the one the Chancellor's been using for travel. It's smaller, and grayer, and the two of you settle inside as it hums to life and begins climbing around the glimmering building in a spiral.

The Chancellor and yourself sit on a bench near the exit. His hand rests itself high on your thigh until the ship stops again.

This dock is all shimmering white stone, directly connected to the building. In a brief whirlwind of a moment, you realize that the Chancellor's having his meeting inside. You get to go inside this masterpiece of construction.

It hurts, when the corners of your mouth quirk up, but as soon as the movement's over you know you want to do it again someday.

In the wide mouthed entrance to the meeting building, you notice a familiar face: the High Commander, with a contingent of MTs stationed behind him. He clenches and unclenches his fists, and when he sees you—or, more specifically, the Chancellor—he stalks over in great, angry strides.

"Lady Lunafreya is not here."

This gives the Chancellor pause.

"What?" he asks, as if he didn't hear the words.

"I'm afraid I don't know the details. She's away in a village to the North, playing healer."

The Chancellor turns to you, a faint smile making the corners of his mouth twitch. "A missing Oracle," he says, "on the day of our meeting. Interesting."

You don't respond. It's not your place to intervene in his discussions.

He faces the High Commander again. "Do you know when she's to return?"

"Tomorrow evening, I assume." The High Commander's mouth twists, and when he speaks again it's like he's biting down and chewing on every word; "I can arrange a room for you to stay in, through tonight."

The smile that previously was but a ghost on the Chancellor's face now reveals itself completely.

"I would greatly appreciate it, Commander Ravus."

The High Commander's mouth twists itself more, and he finally notices your presence.

"And what is this," he spits, the look he has making you stand straight-backed in terror, "a new toy?"

Is he addressing you?

"A bodyguard," the Chancellor answers, waving a hand.

"I'm sure," the High Commander says, gives you one last scrutinizing look, and turns on his heels into the building.

He doesn't return, but instead out comes a human in a dress, the creased and folded skin of her face sagging a bit when she smiles.

"Chancellor Izunia, we have a room ready for you."

And you're escorted inside.

The metal boots of your armor _click-click_ as you walk down marble halls, and past wide windows. Through one in particular, you see the stretch of pavement you arrived on far below where you are now, and notice how beautiful the flowers are when you don't have to smell them.

The dress-wearing human stops in front of a door, tucked away in an untouched corner of the building.

"I hope you'll find this to your liking," she says, bowing slightly.

The Chancellor puts his free hand on the doorknob, remarks, "I hope so too," and walks inside with you.

The room is light colored, the walls painted sky blue and the furniture being mostly the same off-white as the outside of the building. By the door stands a vase of mixed flowers, but the scent from them isn't as strong as the sylleblossoms were.

Pushed against the center of the right wall is a large bed. This is undoubtedly for the Chancellor.

"Well," he says, placing his hands on his hips, "this is not what I expected for the day." He sighs, and sits on the edge of the bed, between two dark poles on either end. He looks around the room, taking in the same sights as you.

One last thing catches your eye; in the corner to the left stands a shelving unit. For lack of anything better to do, you walk towards it and investigate its contents.

Brown and white and blue rectangles sit on the shelves, one after another. There's writing on the part of them that faces you, stamped in what looks like a sort of fabric. Leather, maybe, like the whips at the training facility?

"Chancellor, what are these?"

There's a pat on your shoulder and you jump, noticing he's now behind you.

"Books," he replies simply, "not for MTs to read."

"Oh."

You tilt your gaze down, at the white floor under your boots.

He turns you around, back towards the direction of the bed, where he sits down again.

You stand to attention in front of him.

"Sir, why is the High Commander present?" you ask, hoping to get a better answer than with the books.

Something passes over the Chancellor's face, something pleased, you decide. It reminds you of the look he gave you before...no, you'd rather not think about that.

"This is his home," he says, shaking his head, "and he relishes being here, when he can. He's supposed to be in charge of the Oracle and her arrest, but it seems we may have to relocate him."

The High Commander failed an order. That's something you didn't even think was possible, but you nod, signaling to the Chancellor that you understand.

He shifts where he sits on the bed, clearly uncomfortable about something.

"01987," he says, looking behind you, "did you forget to shut the door?"

You frown, and turn to look. The door is, indeed, wide open.

You apologize, and go to close it. When you turn back around, the Chancellor has his legs sitting far apart, reminding you too much of the encounter you've been trying to put out of your head.

"01987, kneel," he says.

You stare. You stare right at him.

_No._

He puts on a confused expression. "Did I stutter?"

You shake your head, and walk towards him. You ignore the trembling in your hands as you place them on his legs and kneel.

One of his hands begins on his pants.

_No. Please?_

The other lands in your hair and tousles it slightly.

"Good boy."

  
******

  
The marble floors are uncomfortable, more so than even the metal of the dropship's living area. They're too hard, too smooth, and they chill your skin like the Chancellor's hands.

He had half a mind to toss you an extra blanket off the bed before he settled down to sleep for the night, and you're grateful, but it's not enough. It doesn't change the unfamiliar room, or the matter of the floor, or the events of the day.

You don't want to think about it, but your mind keeps returning to it, like a trainer trying to beat a skill into your memory. You make an effort to push it out of your mind, putting all your concentration on picking out every element that's keeping you from recharging, when the floors turn from chilly to freezing.

It's so sudden, too, that you yelp and sit up. In an instant you turn to see if the Chancellor noticed your noise, but he sleeps peacefully in his bed. The thin blanket he gave you slips from around your chest and pools on your legs.

Soon, your teeth are chattering, and you can't make them stop. You rub your arms in desperation, trying to create some sort of warming friction between your hands and the material of your uniform, but to no avail. You glance towards your armor, set in a pile by the flower vase, but can't muster the strength to retrieve it.

Besides, a human in black and white blocks your path.

Wait.

When did a human come in?

You're helpless as she comes closer and crouches down. Even with her closed eyes, you can tell she's studying you. Your chest begins to fill with the same mixture of awe and respect you felt when you first arrived in this place.

She looks happy, and in a strange duality, exhausted as well.

"The Prince cowers," she says, lifting a hand to your cheek, her skin so cold it _burns_ , "unknowing of who he is."

When you exhale to start talking, you can see your breath.

"Th-the Ch-chancellor's in the bed. You don't want-t me," you chatter.

"The Accursed is not why the Messenger visits. She comes to see the Prince."

It doesn't make sense. There's only one Prince that she could be talking about, and although you don't know much about him, you know he's not here.

"The Prince," she continues, "the Heart, the Gunman, the Traitor."

The last title makes your stomach do a flip.

"He's n-not here," you hiss through the cold.

Something appears on the human's face in an instant, a look so comforting and pleasant and unlike any expression you've ever had thrown your way in your life. Despite the gnawing, painful chill, you almost want her to stay so you can enjoy more of it.

"He will be," she laughs, just a little.

Then there's nothing but the familiar darkness of recharging.

  
******

  
When she returns, the meeting with Lady Lunafreya—or, should you say, the Oracle? Her titles are confusing—goes smoothly. The routine is the same as every other time the Chancellor has met with someone of importance on this trip, the only meaningful difference being the lack of cityscape to stare out at when you're not doing anything. It's a bit boring.

However, you take the time during their discussion to think about the freezing human from last night and her odd appearance. Upon waking and seeing no concrete evidence she had actually been there, you decided to dismiss it as a glitch during recharging. You still hope she finds her Prince, though, even if she wasn't real.

Hours after the sun sets and its light no longer pierces your eyes, the meeting concludes.

The Chancellor rises, as does the Oracle, and they shake hands.

"Thank you for your time, my lady," he says.

"It was my pleasure," she responds, but something in her voice catches on the last word. "May I apologize again for postponing without proper notice."

"No harm done."

One look at the Chancellor's face asserts that there was, in fact, harm done.

After the shake is over, he wipes his hand on his coat. When it doesn't have the intended effect, he asks, "Do you have a lavatory nearby?"

She nods, and now that you notice, seems equally relieved the handshake is over.

"Down the hall, to the right."

"Thank you."

You stand and move to follow him out, but he lays a hand to your chest.

"I do hope you realize I don't need you in there all the time," he huffs. You have no idea what he means by that, but he leaves before you can ask.

There's a pause. You have nothing better to do than stand to attention when Lady Lunafreya asks, "What is your name?"

You reflect on that.

"I don't have one."

"Really?" You think maybe she should sound more surprised than she is. "What do you do?"

"I protect the Chancellor. I'm his bodyguard." _I also suck his penis,_ you want to add, but you're not sure where that fits into any of this.

She smiles, and its brilliance puts the stars out the window to shame.

"I hope you won't take offense, but you're a terrible bodyguard. You won't even wait for him outside of the lavatory," she chuckles.

She has a point, but you shrug. "I have to follow his orders. He wanted me to stay here." You scratch your head. "I think."

"Hm."

She moves to sit in the armchair she stayed in during the meeting. "I have guards too, but they're not meant to protect me."

That sentence makes no sense.

"How does that work?" you ask, hoping she's not offended by your lack of knowledge.

Her shining smile falters, and she looks away.

"It's quite a long story. Suffice to say, the Empire doesn't like me much. Luckily," she pats her lap a few times, "there's always another way."

An animal walks into your field of vision, appearing just as abruptly as the human from your glitch. The creature walks towards her, and nuzzles into her lap. She pulls a book, brown and time-worn, off its back, and flips it open.

Are you glitching out right now?

You have a burning desire to ask her so many questions—what the creature is, if you can touch it, if it's real, if _she's_ real, if she knows the freezing human—

But the Chancellor appears at the doorway, calling, "01987," and you must go.

  
******

  
The metal floor beside the Chancellor's bed in the dropship is much better than the marble in Tenebrae. You missed it.

And—it's late, and he likely wants to sleep, but something's still on your mind.

"Chancellor?" you ask the dark.

"Yes, 01987?" his voice replies.

"What's a 'toy'?"

Blankets shuffle to your right.

"It's a plaything. An object. Something one uses for amusement, or to pass the time." Pause. "Is that all?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

The Chancellor grumbles a little, and settles back into his covers.

"Good night," you hear whispered, a few minutes later.


End file.
